The Polychromatic Adventures of Buffy Summers
by Will ow2002
Summary: AU, FunnyFic! Buffy Summers' countless attempts to find her niche in the world. Read and review, please! Updated!
1. Prologue

TITLE: "The Polychromatic Adventures of Buffy Summers"

AUTHOR: Liz AKA Will ow

DISTRIBUTION: My "site," and the yahoo groups I'm involved with. Anyone who wants it, just ask me and I'll be happy to give.

SPOILERS: None, this is AU.

RATING: PG-13 for now

PREMISE: Buffy Summers' countless attempts to find her niche in the world.

DISCLAIMER: Joss, these characters belong to you, I'm sorry to say. I wish they were mine, though.

DEDICATION: To Stacerella...cause she's my evil, evil friend. To my Bonopos, since she has always pushed me to write and never give up. To CC, cause we obsessed over the Olympics and decided that we have a good chance of meeting up in Beijing at the 2008 Summer Games. To Bre, Lea, and Dani for testing this out. And to Zo cause she's such a sweetheart. Ooh, and to the groups - love you all.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, this fic was inspired by Loftyheights' "Culture Shock." She is an amazing author and every time I read over her unfinished fic, it has me bawling - in hilarium, if that's a word, which it's not. :)

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Prologue: In the beginning, Buffy Summers was a very _lost_ girl..._very_, **_very_** lost...

-

She sat at a secluded, dark corner of The Bronze, quietly sipping her Diet Coke as she came to an honest and genuine conclusion: If she glanced to the side once more without moving her head, there was no doubt she'd find herself cross-eyed in the morning.

She chuckled embarrassingly at how absurd she was acting. Never in her life had she ever acted like this, except when he was nearby. Let's just say it freaked her out. Whenever he was in the near vicinity of her, she always seemed to have a dopey smile plastered on her face (think clowns), as well as a blush that was buried deep within her cheeks.

She tucked a golden lock carefully behind her ear and took a long side-ways glance at him. Oh God, he was so beautiful. Her heart fluttered every time he grinned, those eyes of his glinting in the most enthralling way. She looked at him with hooded eyes as she studied the outlines of his muscled chest through his threadbare sweater.

She swore to herself that a mere brush of his sleeve against her bare arm would paralyze her indefinably; the light brush of his lips against hers would cause her to die and go to heaven.

But that would never happen, she thought depressingly. The boy grew up. He'd come back to this part of town for Spring Break and would go off to UC Sunnydale again after his vacation would be over. He wasn't the type to go for a swoon-y schoolgirl like her. She was too innocent to ever have a chance with him. But, she decided, there was no harm in dreaming. Even if it involved a lot of deadly whipped-cream.

He was not the same boy she knew - the one who stood up for her in the playground when she was being bullied (Xander used to tease her, sometimes), the one who slept over to help her with a history paper. No, he was definitely not the same...in the sense that this boy was now a man who avoided her like the plague.

What was up with that, anyway? Did he actually think that now that he had a college life, he had the right to avoid the people - no, his _friends_ - who had one more year of high school to complete? She felt a tinge of sorrow churn in her stomach. She felt unworthy, felt that the part of her heart that she reserved for his love was empty. All she needed was one phrase, one simple phrase like "I'm sorry" and she'd forgive him; the empty part of her heart would be complete and all would be right.

How did that expression go again? A hard man is good to find?

Oh. Oh, wait! No, no, she didn't mean that! Well, yeah, she admitted, a hard man _is_ good to find - but she meant that a _good_ man is _hard_ to find. And he was just that. A good, respectable man. No one could ever be a better catch than he was.

She sounded like the stalker-type, didn't she? Okay, yeah, you could say that she was obsessed. Infatuated was a better sounding word. Not like that Alicia Silverstone, "The Crush," killer-type of infatuation. But she was drawn to him deeply. She was...

She was his soul mate. She wouldn't give up on him until he realized that they were simply meant to be. They were just meant to be together.

She hadn't realized she was staring at him for so long and quickly looked down in a rush as his eyes met hers. She heard him murmur something to his college buddies and saw him swiftly get up from his seat. 'Oh my God, he's walking towards me,' she beamed as she started fidgeting around, looking for something to occupy herself with. She quickly poured herself some more Diet Coke, and held the cold, plastic cup in her slightly trembling hands.

She was whistling to herself as he came up to her, the cutest smile having crawled on his handsome face. She put on her nonchalant act, and looked up interestingly at the beautiful man who stood before her.

"Buffy," he whispered, grinning, "you look well."

She frowned slightly. Did she really? Did she really look well? Because apparently she was not feeling the wellness. If feeling well meant that her life was a living hell, full of moaning and groaning over him, thinking of ways to seduce him and make him hers forever, then yes, she was feeling the uber-wellness.

"Hi," she said softly. "I haven't seen or talked to you in a while. How's the college gig working for you?"

He smirked cutely. "It's been going great. But I miss you."

She smiled brightly. He missed her? By golly, she missed him, too! Oh, how she loved this man...

"And I miss Willow, and Oz, and for some weird reason...Xander, too," he said, looking somewhat depressed.

Oh. He missed her in a sense of a group missing. Like, he missed the Scoobies, but didn't miss someone specifically from the Scoobies. Oh...Great.

What a bastard.

"Buffy, I know I haven't been much of a friend these past few months. I haven't been keeping in touch, and I'm sorry for that."

He damn well better be sorry! Oh shit, that sure was a scary, sudden outbreak of "Mommy" talk.

He continued. "So, maybe - if you aren't busy - you'd like to pair up for doubles in tennis at the country club this weekend? So we can catch up, of course."

Her heart slammed against her chest. Was she...was she being asked on a date by him? As in, a real, live date...with HIM? Like, actually seeing him up-close and stuff? Wow. Okay, so playing doubles in a tennis match together was far from a romantic, candle-lit dinner. But, she'd be with him, and that's what counted! Plus, she'd get to see her SOUL MATE sweating sexily, beads of water dripping down the front of his chest while he played tennis. Oh God, and if he'd take off his shirt, she'd surely pass out. And, maybe if she'd be lucky enough, she'd have the absolutely wonderful privilege of accidentally walking in on him while he took his shower at the club! What fun! She was going.

"Okay," she said, biting back a giddy shriek of excitement. Mr. Woo, meet Mrs. Hoo. Woohoo!

"Okay," he said, while returning to his burly college buds. He never took his eyes off her and purposefully walked backwards as he tried to remember that gentle curve of her face, that searing glint in her green eyes, those lips that seemed to be protruding proudly, waiting impatiently for his rough kisses. They would eventually come, but not now.

As he turned his attention back to his burly buds, Buffy picked up the pillow that lay next to her on the couch and stuffed it into her face, shrieking of pure joy.

"MY SOUL MATE ASKED ME OUT ON A DATE!" she cried as she gagged on the corner of the pillow, its material working to muffle her sounds. She started coughing a bit. Some people around were looking at her weirdly. "RILEY FINN ASKED ME, BUFFY SUMMERS, OUT ON A DATE!"

Three cheers for the "woo" and the "hoo."

Woohoo!

-

AUTHOR'S NOTES 2:

HA! You thought it'd be Angel, didn't you? Don't worry...You were worrying, weren't you? PSH! You thought I, Liz (AKA Willow), would have the grossest of minds and write B/R? PFFT! NEVER likely. Please feedback; please rant. It will be greatly appreciated. :)


	2. Chapter One

"The Polychromatic Adventures of Buffy Summers," by Liz (AKA Willow)

See previous part for general comments/disclaimer.

Author's Notes: Okay, yeah, I admit I acted a little evilly in the last chapter. I just wanted to know what it is like to feel like Joss. And I'll tell you this: **It's of the crap**. And (quoting Loftyheights): **It's of the uber-suck**. It really is. How can he enjoy our torture so much?

Stick with me for a few, okay? It'll get funny, but angsty? Only if I'm up to it.

Chapter One: She thought she was going down the right road, but...yeah - she _wasn't_.

Tennis was definitely not her sport.

Upon practicing for a few minutes before the game, playing against Riley...she managed to...oh God, how could she put this lightly? Okay...she'd just admit it. She -- she managed to --

She managed to hit the tennis ball directly into Riley's groin.

There. She admitted it. Happy now? I'm sure you are.

It wasn't a pretty sight either.

What if she injured...it...really badly? Although she wasn't of the Serena Williams-type, Willow and Xander used to assure her that she _did_ have one mean backhand. The impact must have been shattering.

She almost cried at the look on his face, his eyes squinting, his mouth making an O-type shape. She dropped her racket and quickly ran over to him.

He doubled over in pain and collapsed onto his knees. The pain in his lower...parts, was burning him so badly. He clutched himself as the throbbing continued mercilessly.

"Riley, Riley...are you okay? I didn't mean to hit...it. Or any other body part, for that matter, cause that'd still be REALLY bad. Does it hurt? Of course it hurts. Maybe I can get you ice, ice to put on your...it. Where can I get the ice? Does any one have any--"

His groaning cut her off. "Buuuffy...Need. Ice. Badly."

If she DID get some ice, she could help him apply pressure to his...it...!

And she ran, in hot pursuit of a freezer...

Hee. Hot pursuit of a freezer.

And by God, if she were running a marathon against Marion Jones she would have won.

"And you went to look for a freezer?" Willow asked dubiously, not believing her best friend. "You just left him there?"

"Well, what was I supposed to do, Will? Cry for help? 'Help me Mister Janitor Sir, my hottie crush just got hit in his nether regions by a tennis ball?' What should have been done?" she asked rhetorically into the small cell phone she clutched in her hand. She walked through the main doors of the Sunnydale Country Club and trotted down the spiral staircase, leading down to a road where her small, white Mercedes Benz was parked.

"Y-you should have told him to walk it off! He could have taken it. He's a man!" 'But, not in the manly-sense,' Willow added to herself.

"Okay, the next time I hit Riley in his 'It' with a tennis ball, I'll tell him to walk it off. Right," she said while unlocking her car and sitting in the black leather seat. "Will, I got to go. Need some coffee. After that drastic experience, about forty percent of my brain cells are still in shock. Tennis ball bad. Coffee yummy. See? I'm not usually this non-talkative," she said, a small smile on her face.

"Well get thee to the nearest café."

"Okay, Will. Talk to you soon." She hung up the phone, hastily put on her seatbelt and started her car.

She drove to the nearest café, ordered a...well, she wasn't exactly sure what she ordered. All those coffees had those fancy names. Mocha, frap, crap, chino and the like, some with marshmallows and some with cream, blah blah blah. Well anyway, she ordered a cup of Joe and contemplated her embarrassing situation:

One: She only got to spend a total of ten minutes with her supposed "soul mate." How are you supposed to get to know your soul mate in a ten-minute time span? That's absolutely impossible.

Two: She didn't get to hear him talk about how much he missed her.

Three: She might have permanently damaged "It."

Four: Riley was just...just totally _ignoring her_. Well, not really. If you're sent to the hospital in an ambulance, the "ignoring" part is kind of inevitable, she guessed.

Where had her life gone so wrong?

In her seventeen years on this earth, Buffy had been taught to follow the rules and to keep high morals. While living off her mother's well earned wealth, her mother had been strict with her, making sure Buffy hadn't ended up being another spoiled, juvenile delinquent. So far, her mother's stern discipline had worked perfectly. As a result of Buffy abiding by the rules her mother demanded her to follow, Buffy in turn was showered with love, friendship, and a sense of freedom.

But if life was supposed to be peachy-keen because of following the rules, then why didn't she feel the peachy-keen-ness? Why did she feel like she was living the life of crap?

Contemplating that thought, she took a sip of her Joe and swished the liquid through her teeth. Life sucks. Life is of the crap. Whatever life was, she'd still always have her coffee. And nothing could change that. Cause coffee will never abandon you, no matter how many embarrassing things you do.

She looked down at her mug.

She finished all of it. Not one molecule of coffee was left.

She knew she couldn't trust those damned molecules. _Spineless, heartless, selfish bastards._

She cracked the door open a bit and slowly poked her head into the room. "R-Riley?" she whispered lamely.

Groan. Cough.

(Snicker.)

He had a nightgown on! It had polka dots on it, and as far as she was concerned he looked "absolutely darling." He was as cute as a button. Except for the whole part where there was a big bandaged bulge underneath the nightgown. It was a big bandage -- the problem was that Riley's "It" was not big at all. She was completely awed with the probability that a tennis ball of that size could come into contact with such a puny little nothing. _Eeeew, enough perverted thoughts, visuals...just...too...much_. She put her hand up to her head._ Ah. Okay, better now._

"Hi Riley," she whispered softly, slowly inching towards the hospital bed. He gave a tight smile, and she was sure he pretty much looked as if he was holding back a holler of agony. "I, uh...I brought Mr. Gordo here," she took her hand out from behind her back and placed the small pig on his shoulder. "He's here to keep you company. You remember Mr. Gordo, right?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. Mr. Gordo was our Superman. He was cool."

She smiled. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry that this happened. The doctors say I shouldn't be around any type of metal sports equipment, so for your sake and mine, I decided to go cold turkey with the tennis gig. A-and ice-skating? Not my thing anymore."

"Good idea," he said with a groan that pretty much freaked the hell out of her.

"Is there anything I can do for you; uh, like fluff your pillows or...! Juice! Do you like juice? Do you know where the cups are?"

"Juice is good. I have a cup already." He reached over to the lame excuse for a night table and snatched the cup, holding out the cheap plastic for Buffy to pour OJ into.

She wasn't usually so non-coordinated. She was usually okay when holding cups and glasses, and sometimes her goldfish tank (which, unfortunately, was out of use since Mr. Goldy died after he miraculously jumped out of the tank and accidentally ended up in the garbage disposal). But today was just not her day. She happened to spill a good portion of the OJ right onto Riley's lap. All of it. She had a hard time getting a hold of the damned carton of OJ.

He nearly sobbed.

"Oh, oops, I'll get that." Embarrassed and yet highly amused, she grabbed a few napkins and looked down at the mess she made. "Uh...actually, I'll let the nurse handle it. I got to go for now, Riley. Y'know, have to catch up on that history studying and chem' homework Will is hell bent on making me do. So bye!" She made a move to high-tail the hell out of there.

"Buffy – wai..."

She quickly exited the small cubicle and told the nurse that Riley was in need of a little assistance.

The nurse, ticked that she had to be rudely interrupted while doing her daily crossword puzzle, entered the hospital room deciding that she'd get this over with as soon as she possibly could. Will Shortz and his loony crossword clues were anxiously awaiting her return. She looked down at the yellow liquid that was splayed across the lap of Riley Finn. She looked up at him disapprovingly, a scowl branded on her usually soft face. "Oh, not again...I thought I told you to use that metal pan, Finn! Look at this mess!"

Riley just couldn't stop sobbing.

TBC...

I need suggestions, people! And comments! Feedback would be great.

And to thank my previous, incredible reviewers (Love you ALL):

**Miatwist** - GAH! Don't worry about it. I fooled a lot of people and a lot of them weren't as understanding as you were. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I **will** continue; this is my vow to you. Shakes fist in the air - I **WILL** continue. Hee. Thank you for the feedback!

**Lindsay** - Puts hands up in defense I promise there **will** be B/A - cause I'm a die-hard B/A 'shipper. And anything less is just so incredibly WRONG. :P Power to the B/A 'shippers! Woohoo! Thank you for the feedback. It was appreciate muchly. (Gawd, I love that non-existent word.)

**AngelSummersForever** - :O! I know! That was so incredibly MEAN of me. I think I might be the meanest person in the world right now. First, Buffy thinking Riley's her soulmate, and now THIS:P And I think you'll be disappointed when you hear that Angel won't be making much of an appearance in the next chapter (when I introduce him). But don't fret! B/A fluffiness will be here soon! And I can never do anything bad to My Angel. Thanks for the feedback!


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